


Eye of the Beholder

by windsorblue



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-03
Updated: 2008-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsorblue/pseuds/windsorblue





	Eye of the Beholder

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[3x4](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/3x4), [ficlet](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/ficlet), [gw](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/gw), [kinkfest](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/kinkfest), [pg](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/pg), [quatre](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/quatre), [trowa](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/trowa)  
  
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**title:** Eye of the Beholder  
 **fandom:** Gundam Wing  
 **pairing:** Trowa/Quatre  
 **rating:** PGish  
 **prompt:** sex in the sand - "It's hot out here!"  
written for the kinkfest community at insanejournal.

It was almost fairy-tale ridiculous - like something Scheherazade would have woven words about. Trowa helped where he could with setting up the tent and securing the camels, but this was Quatre's element, this desert. This was Quatre's turf. Quatre had been the one to track the sun's progress across the sky and know when it was time to take a break from traveling, before the heat became too much for human or animal to bear. Quatre had been the one to spot the outcropping of rock that they were using to shade their tent, sandstone-colored rock against sand, almost a perfect match.

But when Quatre had unrolled a mat for them to lay on that was woven from fine red silk and intricately embroidered with golden threads - that was when things had taken a bit too much of a fantastical turn for Trowa's mindset. "If I didn't know any better," Trowa said as Quatre stretched out on the mat, "I might think you were trying to seduce me."

"How so?" Quatre took a long drink from his water skin and offered it to Trowa. Trowa knelt down and took it, and as he drank he let his backside fall to the ground and slid his legs out long in front of him.

"This." Trowa wiped drops of water from his lips with the back of his hand and pressed his fingertips to the mat, plucking at the silk. "It's awfully exotic for a recon mission." The silk was cool against the palm of Trowa's hand; cooler than the heat rising up from the sand just outside the tent flap, cooler than the sand under Trowa's feet.

Quatre's eyebrow arched up. "The Bedouin disagree with the average Puritanical Westerners' notions of form and function being separate entities." He ran his hand along the mat, alongside Trowa's hand. "Making an object beautiful to look at doesn't make it inherently less useful."

Trowa half-shrugged. "True enough, I suppose...still smacks of a seduction to me, though."

Quatre leaned forward and pushed his hands under the hem of Trowa's shirt, pushing it up Trowa's chest. "Does it, now?"

Trowa let Quatre pull his shirt off the rest of the way and smiled. "Indeed it does."

Quatre pushed at Trowa's shoulder with the heel of his hand. "Lie on your back on the mat - you'll see how nice the silk feels against your skin in this heat...much more comfortable than your shirt."

"Uh-huh." Trowa did what he was told, lying back on the mat, and the next thing he knew Quatre was climbing on top of him, straddling his hips. "And that's the only reason I'm shirtless, is so I can appreciate the quality of the silk?"

Quatre shrugged, and drew his palms down Trowa's chest to his waist, coming to rest just over the button of Trowa's pants. "So, is the seduction working?"

Trowa grabbed Quatre by the shirt collar and pulled him down into kissing range. "Little bit, yeah."  


 

 


End file.
